“The ages dreamed of this that you have done.”
Her voice was like a softened, hundred-toned ice-crackle. He trembled in his coma, and then relaxed as for a long fall in sleep. The voice went on:
“The Chaldeans sculptured wings on their man-gods and on their sacred bulls.
“The Greeks made their dream articulate in the myth of Dædalus and Icarus.
“Leonardo da Vinci laid aside the brush that made the Mona Lisa to grope for the realization of this dream that we have made real.
“To fly, to spread wings on the impalpable air, and soar, to follow the way of an eagle in the air.
“To skim the invisible columns of the sky—are not men become as gods now in very truth?
“You have dreamed true, Spirit—Spirit of Dreams and High Emprise; you are all men who aspire.
“How beautiful you are in the torture of accomplishment! The very chords on your throat are lute-strings to sing of victory.
“The blood from your nostrils is a libation to the jealous powers that you have trampled underfoot.